snowstorm
by stinis
Summary: A storm is coming, but charles has some finale christmas gifts he must buy... Dedicated to thecookiedistrict for the cheslie christmas exchange on tumblr. Happy Christmas to you dear, and to the whole fandom as well of course. Alittle nervous about this since english isn't my first language and that i've never published anything i've written before. let me know what you think!


**A/N: I'm sorry this should be parted into chapters but i've been struggling with this forever and just want it to be published. I hope this story is atleast worth your time if you decide to read it. I'm ****just so proud of myself for ****finishing it at all. Let's go!**

**22 December**

"Mr. Carson? What on earth?" Elsie tilted her head in confusion and studied the butler from head to toe with big eyes because there he stood in his pantry, 8 o'clock on a Friday morning dressed in ordinary clothes.  
He gave her a small nod as a greeting.  
"Good morning, Mrs Hughes. I'm having my half day off. Is there anything you need from Ripon? After breakfast I'm taking the bus there to buy my final Christmas gifts."  
"You most certainly are not!" She said waving her arms to show her irritation and then let them fall to her sides again. "Have you looked outside today? It's snowing as if we lived in Siberia and they say it will only get worse!"  
"I am fully aware. I'll manage. "  
"Why must you always-"  
The noise of china crashing to the floor the in servants hall interrupted her. The new kitchen maid had probably dropped some bowls or plates because seconds later a yelling Mrs Patmore was heard. Poor lass.  
"Close the door." Charles sighed.  
Elsie did as he commanded and then stepped a bit closer to him.  
"You were saying?" He asked and raised an eyebrow.  
"Well, first of all I must ask if you have thought this through."  
"Of course I have!" he snapped. "I got his lordship's permission after yesterday's dinner."  
"That is not an excuse. And from what I can recall you and I had some sherry last night in this very room. Couldn't you have brought it up then? Why didn't you speak to me about it?"  
"I'm sorry Mrs Hughes, should I have asked for _your_permission for taking a half day off? Because I thought that was in the authority of his Lordship. You see when I made the request yesterday, he not only accepted, he _even_ wished I would have an enjoyable day. I do apologize. Next time I will ask you first. Thank you for putting me in my place."  
Elsie now tried her best to stay calm and not sink to his level. "There's no need to be sharp. And you know perfectly well that wasn't my point. There is a snowstorm coming and only a fool would go out risking his life to buy some stupid Christmas gifts."  
"Are you calling me a fool?"  
"If you go outside in this weather then yes. Yes I am."  
They both stood there for a moment staring at each other with narrow eyes and crossed arms like two stubborn children. Charles was the first to break the silence by letting out an irritated grunt.  
"I won't argue with you. Not about this. Not now. " He stated. " I simply have to run these errands today. The family is entertaining several guests on Sunday and everything must get prepared and done by tomorrow and then Christmas day is on Monday. Mr Barrow will be more than pleased to take on my tasks while I'm gone. I will dress warm and I will be back by luncheon. Now, let's go and have some breakfast, shall we?"  
She rolled her eyes at him and turned around.  
"Whatever you say you know I'm right." She said before walking out the door.

Yes, of course he knew that. She was always right and he was always too proud to admit it.

Elsie sat beside him on her regular seat at the dinner table while slowly swirling a table spoon in her almost empty teacup. The other staff members had also shared their concern for the butler when he announced that he was heading out after breakfast. 'Suicide' Mrs Patmore even had called it. And then Thomas had interfered: "Calm down, Mrs Patmore. I think Mr Carson deserve some time off before having to deal with all the stress that Christmas brings. I'm sure the storm won't be that dramatic."  
Mr Carson had then given the lad a notifying half smile and a deep nod as response and then turned to Elsie looking like he had just won the lottery.  
"Since when can he predict the weather?" Mrs Patmore then muttered while exiting the room and Elsie couldn't help raising a brow.  
She now observed him reading the paper and tried to accept the fact that he had just trusted the words coming out the mouth of Thomas Barrow. One thing she never thought she would experience.  
Mr Carson must have felt her eyes on him because then he was suddenly looking her straight in the eyes. She decided right then to make another try to change is mind so she slowly leaned forward and he followed her example.  
"Don't even start." He said quickly before she got the chance to say anything.  
"Can't you see I'm worried? We all are." Their voices kept low.  
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Be so kind and pass me the butter, will you?"  
"Gladly, after you have heard what I have to say."  
He gave her a sulky glare and had a mouth of coffee.  
"Suppose I'll have to settle with jam then." He then stated, more to himself then to her, while putting his cup down.

_Curse this man!_Her fist hit the table. Unable to control herself Elsie felt as if a volcano erupted inside her. "For heaven's sake, Mr Carson! It's very simple. If you go out in this weather it will end badly, trust me. Why can't you for once just listen? You are acting as if you were the same age as Master George!"  
Complete silence in the room. As if time had stopped.  
She closed her eyes and bit down hard immediately regretting every word she had uttered. She knew she had said them too loud. She knew everyone around the table was now staring at her and she knew she had crossed the line, but it was too late. Her eyes opened and met his. His two usually brown, warm eyes who had now turned black.  
"And _you_ are acting like my superior, or my equal, which in fact you are not." He snarled at her. "You, Mrs Hughes would do well to remember that at the end of the day you are not my employer, my friend or my wife. As long as I am the butler and you the housekeeper you may never address me as you just did!"  
She could feel a small sting in her heart and some burning behind her eyelids but she quickly blinked it away. It was harsh but he was right. They had to set an example for the staff and she had gone way too far. _He is only doing his duty. He doesn't like to act this way_. _Blame only yourself._ She thought.  
This was not the real Charles Carson but Mr Carson, butler of Downton Abbey. And when it came to herself she should be better at separating Elsie Hughes from Mrs Hughes the housekeeper after all these years_. Not his friend nor his wife_. For some reason him pointing out the wife part had hurt her the most. Maybe because that was a title she so desperately wanted to wear but knew she would never get to._  
_It seemed like no one even dared to breathe. Elsie wondered if the room had ever been this quiet during a meal. What finally saved the moment from becoming completely unbearable was a ringing bell. _Back door_.  
Jimmy slowly started to rise from his chair but she stopped him before he got up.  
"I'll answer the door, Jimmy. You finish your breakfast." She stood up and turned to Anna. "When the family is done in the dining room I need you and two girls to do a proper cleaning of it. The remaining maids will start preparing the guest bedrooms. I'll come upstairs later but if you need me before then you will find me in my sitting room." she must show she could play her role as well.  
"Yes, Mrs Hughes." Anna responded.

Elsie quickly reached the back door. Glad she had resisted the urge to give him one last glance before leaving the servant's hall with her head held as high as possible. Yet still she couldn't get rid of that tiny heartache.

Her door stood wide open. It usually did during the day since there always seemed to be someone who needed her to answer a question, borrow them a key to a looked door, double check lists or just give some advice on how to best finish a task.  
She was now standing by her desk reading a document of some sort. Her left forefinger slowly followed the lines, stroking the paper with caution.  
Charles wanted to approach her and take her hand in his. "_You can always hold my hand if you need to feel steady_." She once had told him and now he was feeling as if he was going to collapse into pieces. He wanted her to know how bad he felt for what he had said during breakfast and ask for her forgiveness. But he had had no other choice. She knew that. They had been among the staff and he would probably do the same thing again if he had to. Duty comes first and sometimes that was the thing he disliked most about his work. He had been way too hard on her though.  
He kept watching her left hand and he couldn't prevent himself from imagining a golden ring on it. _Just because he had said she wasn't his wife now didn't men she never could be…_ But why would she even consider spending the rest of her life with someone who didn't show her the respect she deserved? He let out a sigh at the thought. A sigh she of course heard and which caught her attention.  
"Yes?" She said quite coldly and looked up from the papers. Charles cleared his throat.  
"I'm off. It has almost stopped snowing now. You sure you don't want me to get you something?"  
Now it was her turn to sigh. He expected her to get furious and he wouldn't blame her at all. What a stupid thing to say. Instead she gave him a forced smile.  
"Come inside and shut the door."  
And that he did, feeling a little confused. Now he had to make things right though. No more missteps.  
"Mrs Hughes, before I go I wanted… well, what I said earlier I didn't exactly mean to-"  
Without letting him finish she then suddenly turned away and walked across the room to finally kneel down and open up a chest standing on the floor. One he knew she was keeping her needles, thread, yarn and knitting in. After taking out a blue knitwear she walked back to him.  
"At least wear this." She pleaded and handed him what he now could see was a woollen scarf.  
"Your old one won't do. I made this two years ago but thought it was too warm so I've seldom worn it myself. It's not very beautiful but it will be useful. You may even keep it if you want, you can see it as an early Christmas present. " She took a second to breathe. "Please, Mr Carson. I just don't want you to freeze to death."  
He let her words sink in before he answered. First he took some time to admire the thick yet soft scarf he now was holding tightly in his hands. It was very well made he thought and he did not agree with her stating it wasn't beautiful.  
"That would make this Christmas quite dreary wouldn't it?"  
She let out a small laugh and her hand gave his arm a careful stroke.  
"It really would."  
"Thank you for this." Charles said and pressed the scarf to his chest.  
"Just promise you will be careful." Her eyes searching for assurance in his face.  
"Of course."

He had said he would be back by luncheon, and that was two hours ago. Elsie had tried the best she could but just wasn't able to concentrate on her work anymore. Buy now she instead had a whole routine worked out for herself to pass the time. Starting with sitting by her desk, check the time on her wall clock, feel restless and walk out to stare at the back door wishing it would open and he would step inside. After a while she would walk to the servant's hall to look out the window only to find the snowing had increased since the last time she had checked. Lastly she stood stroking his chair for a moment before returning to her sitting room to sit down and then it all began once again.  
One more hour passed, and then another one. She felt so terribly tired. Her head pounded and felt heavy on her shoulders. Maybe she should've gone to the kitchen to find a powder or a tablet in the first aid kit that could ease her ache. But she didn't. She stayed where she sat letting everything get worse. Outside the December sun had set and not only had it brought all of its own light with it, but hers as well.

"Still no sign of him?" Mrs Patmore appeared in her doorway carrying a tray. Elsie shook her head and the cook let herself in, placed the tray on the small table and sat down on one of the chairs  
"Come sit down and have some tea."  
Realising that was exactly what she needed, Elsie sat down across the table facing the other woman who first put down a teacup for her, filled it and then poured one for herself.  
"Thank you, Mrs Patmore." Elsie brought hers to her lips and quite enjoyed how the hot liquid slightly burned in her mouth. After putting down the cup again she met eyes with her friend and suddenly felt even worse than before. Beryl Patmore could read her like an open book.  
"I know you are upset, Mrs Hughes, and you have every right to be. You can cry or yell or wail how much you want so don't feel the need to restrain yourself in front of me."  
"I'm grateful to you for saying so. But I couldn't do that."  
"Wouldn't you feel better letting it out?"  
"No. I need to remain calm. If I fall I won't be able to get up again."  
"That's why I'm here." Mrs Patmore declared with a sympathetic smile and Elsie felt lucky to have such a precious friend. "Do as you wish. But don't you worry too much though. I bet he's alright."  
"How can you possibly know that?"  
"I don't. But I'm trying to have some faith. There is no point in jumping to conclusions. Assuming the worst won't get him home any quicker."  
"You're right, of course."  
They sat silent for a minute. Elsie took another sip of her tea and tried her best to shut out the unpleasant thoughts stuck in her head_, to have some faith_.  
"It's too dark for him to find the way back." She heard herself saying.  
"I think he has taking shelter at a pub, or an inn. And the bus was probably delayed. Right now he's having a cup of tea just as we are." Mrs Patmore said.  
"If he were he would have telephoned to let us know." Elsie responded quietly, lowering her head.  
"But maybe the telephones can't work properly because of the storm."  
Suddenly Elsie felt an ounce of hope and looked up again.  
"You think that's possible?"  
"I have no idea how telephones work, Mrs Hughes, so why not. It might be possible. My advice is to go upstairs and speak with his lordship."  
"Of course!" She exclaimed. "Thank you. I will speak to you later." Then she stood up and it didn't take many seconds until she was out of her sitting room walking with big steps towards the stairs.

How long he had been wandering around in the darkness he had no idea of. All he could see was snow; snow on the ground and more snow falling heavily from the sky. The icy wind refused to soothe down and it hurt his whole body inside and out. He tried to think about the day at the beach. The memory of her smile, her hand and her loving words filled him with enough strength to keep on walking.  
Charles buried his face deeper into the scarf which luckily was big enough to cover half his face as well as his neck and he was happy he had wrapped it that way. Partly of course because of how genuinely freezing it was outside, but mostly because it filled his nose with her scent and she could make him warmer than all clothes in the world ever would be able to.  
He would be home soon he decided. They could have a glass of wine by the fire in his pantry. In three days it was Christmas and he could hand her what he hand bought today. The thought of her finding out it was her _stupid Christmas gifts he was out risking his life to buy_ managed to make him smile for a second. What a scolding she would give him.

"The maids did a beautiful cleaning in the dining room today, Mrs Hughes. Make sure you award them for it. " Lady Grantham requested with her always so gentle voice.  
"Thank you, your ladyship. I will."  
They were waiting together in the library while Lord Grantham made some phone calls. It felt better not being alone and even more so when it was her ladyship who kept her company. Mr Carson had always favoured Lady Mary above everyone else while Elsie stated she didn't have a favourite but that was a lie. In her opinion Lady Grantham was always the person finding the wisest solutions and the member of the Crawley family who possessed the biggest heart, so if she had to choose…  
"Don't be too concerned if you can. Surely Robert will be back soon with good news."  
"Surely..." Elsie sighed in worry and the other woman gave her a look of comfort.  
The air was too thick for small talk so they stayed silent until his lordship returned.  
"I'm afraid it does not look promising after what I have found out."  
Elsie bit down hard on her lip and in the corner of her eye she could see Lady Grantham moving closer to her. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.  
"There's no need to assume the worst. Go on, Robert."  
"The telephone lines are not working out as well as they should but they still function, so I rang some of the local inns, pubs and restaurants and was informed that Carson was having lunch in the village earlier today. Unfortunately that was also the only place where he'd been seen, which means he's now out there either wandering astray or… well he could be-" he looked down on his feet.  
"Robert!" Lady Grantham hissed. "Don't you dare put such things forward!"  
"Please, excuse me I'm a bit shaken." He explained and turned to sit down on the closest chair.  
"So are we but that doesn't mean we can't operate. Now, Here's what we will do: Mrs Hughes, you will go downstairs and tell the kitchen staff to prepare the simplest dish for tonight's dinner as well as tea, soup, coffee, everything to keep people warm. The maids will manage the dining room, get blankets and pleads and keep the fires burning while the males who are willing will join a search."  
Elsie nodded.  
"That sounds like a good plan, my lady."  
Lord Grantham rose from where he had sat and approached the women again.  
"It will be fine, Mrs Hughes. We will find him and we will bring him home."

He could barely feel any part of his body anymore. Something wet ran down his cheeks, most likely it was his tears mixed with melted snow. It smarted on his skin as if someone was cutting his face with razors. His hands were locked around the grips of the bags that he was carrying. _The beach. Think of the beach._ He begged himself as he continued plodding in what he prayed was the right direction.

Anna sat down beside her by the fireplace in the servant's hall. The search had been going on for quite some time now. All the young lads had joined in, even Thomas. Because of some remorse for his words during breakfast probably.  
"Are you alright, Mrs Hughes?"  
"I am. Thank you, Anna." Elsie quietly answered.  
"Are you sure?"  
_What is the point in lying if I can't do it with credibility?_ She caught herself thinking.  
"No, I'm not alright. But there's nothing to be done about that." She knew the young woman didn't mind her being this straight with her. The two of them had shared a strong bond for years now and Anna was the closest thing to a daughter she would ever get to have. "Did you need something?"  
"Madge and I need the key to that old oak wardrobe in the attic. She sent me down to ask you for it."  
"Very well but I'll go myself. You should sit down for a few minutes."  
"Oh there's no need for that!"  
"I insist. In fact it might be needed for me to _do_ something, to try to fill my head with something else for a moment. Honestly I'm so very scared, Anna. And I feel I will lose it if I sit here for any longer."  
Anna carefully placed her hand on Elsie's arm.  
"I understand. Off with you. And if there's anything I can do for you then let me know."

"Mr Carson? How do you feel?" It was Mr Bates voice.  
Charles gave a weak nod as a reply, feeling unable to use his voice. All of a sudden he was home at Downton sitting by the fire in the servant's hall. He remembered they had found him, he had seen their lanterns getting closer and had heard their voices and somehow they had gotten him to safety. When inside they had removed his wet clothes and wrapped him in blankets. That hadn't made him feel any better though. What he needed right now was _her_. Where was she?  
"Someone get him some soup. And more pleads." A voice ordered.  
What a mess he had created. When raising his head and looking around the room he saw maids running in all directions. The men had been out looking so now of course they all needed to be waited. Instead of sleeping in their beds gathering energy for tomorrow's tasks, everyone was staying up, doing all this extra work because of him.  
He was handed a bowl of soup and despite his stiff, frozen hands he succeeded to devour some of it, yet still it didn't help much.  
Then finally the sound of rattling keys woke him up from his thoughts and in the next moment she was standing in front of him. He wanted to, but the guilt he felt made it impossible for him to manage to look at her now. How worried she must have been. Slowly she lowered herself down to his level and grasped his hands in hers. That was when he finally felt something. After hours of being completely numbed by cold, darkness and pain he now felt that he started to melt. As if his heart was pumping again.  
"You fool." She whispered with a thick voice. One hand escaped the others to gently pull his chin up. Now he saw her. Elsie Hughes and those deep blue eyes of hers that always made him feel safe when gazing in his direction. He let out a sob and tears started to escape his eyes. He saw no reason for holding them back now. She began wiping his cheeks with her sleeve by again raising her hand.

"Everyone should get to bed now and get some well-deserved rest. Carson is in good hands." Lord Grantham had entered the room. "I telephoned Mr Clarkson and he will get here as soon as the weather allows it."

At last they were alone. And she could sit down beside him, hold him, stroke his hair and whisper in his ear that everything was going to be alright.  
"_I'm sorry"_ he kept whispering. "_I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_ And she patiently calmed him down. Despite the fact that their bodies had never been this close before she felt at ease, natural, as if this was how it was supposed to be and she never wanted to part from him again. But he was still a bit cold she thought so after a while she unwillingly released herself from his arms and leaned back a bit to look at him. "I'll go make you some tea."  
"No_._" He grabbed her wrists. "Don't go. Please_."__  
_The desperation and fright in his voice made her feel heartbroken. He looked completely devastated and she didn't know what to do. In the end she successfully contained herself, swallowed hard and stood up.  
"You must get warmer, Mr Carson."  
Although trembling a bit, his hands kept holding firmly onto her to make sure she wouldn't leave.  
"_You_ are my warmth." He stuttered. "I need _you_."  
She slowly shook her head, felt all of her control and self-restrain vanish into thin air. The walls she had succeeded to build up during this long day had fallen.  
"_Elsie?_" His voice cracked.  
Her breath, her mind and her ability to speak was long gone. All she could do now was letting it all out; to let out the tears she had forced to stay inside her.  
He drew her towards him to indicate her to sit down on his lap so that's what she did.  
She stroked a strand of hair from his forehead.  
"You should hate me."  
"But I don't." She placed her hands on the back of his head and his arms found her back and brought her closer in to a comforting embrace. She placed a soft kiss on the side of his neck and then buried her face in his shoulder.  
"You know I never could. I love you." Elsie mumbled, and could then feel how his heart started to beat both stronger and faster and she realised just how much they needed each other to keep on surviving.

**25 December**

"Aren't we a sight for sore eyes? I wish we could have us photographed." Elsie said and took a stronger grip of his hand.  
Charles let out a small laugh.  
The two were walking together to church just as they had done many Christmases before although this year was different because today they were walking hand in hand as a couple engaged to be married.  
"Yes. With these on," He put his free hand on the knitwear around his neck. "we are irresistible."  
She chuckled.  
"I still can't believe you bought me a blue scarf."  
"Well you can't expect me to make you one myself can you? I'm not sure you wouldn't be able to wear it."  
She shook her head, and he continued:  
"I saw it and had to buy it. If you are to be my wife we need to match. Everyone must see that we belong together."  
"Me agreeing to marry you is a second thing I can't believe." She teased him.  
Charles stopped and tuned to face her.  
The sun was shining this day and it made her eyes glitter. He took her other hand in his.  
"You love me, remember?"  
"I love you." She smiled. "And you love me."  
"More than anything else in this world."  
"Honestly, are you trying to make me melt? We'll be late for church if we stand here any longer."  
He brought her closer.  
"What does it matter? We can go next year."  
"You're so daft."  
She stood up on her tip toes and he reached down to her and kissed her softly.  
"Happy Christmas, Elsie Hughes." He said with an raised eye brow when they broke.  
"Happy Christmas, Charles Carson."  
Their hands entwined.


End file.
